Westside Series Box Set

by Monica Alexander

  “I don’t know if they’ll still be fishing for a story or not since our publicist put out a statement last night that you and I are old friends who were spending some time together. She felt like the press bought it, but just in case they decide to read more into the situation than what we want them to believe, I’m going to put you in touch with her. Her name’s Katherine, and she can talk you through how to respond to questions you might be asked.”

  “You do remember I work in PR, right?” Andi teased.

  “I do, but not this kind of PR. Trust me, it’s way different.”

  “I know. I’m only playing. I’d like to talk to her and make sure I’m prepared. I told my friends that we’re just friends, so our story at least jives.”

  I nodded, having heard her on the phone with both Hannah and Tory who’d been equally shocked to see the pictures of us. Andi had to explain more than I think she wanted to, but neither of us had exactly expected to go public with what had transpired between us, so she hadn’t had the forethought to tell her friends. I knew from experience that learning via the Internet that someone you cared about was dating someone new wasn’t fun to hear, but Andi assured them that we were just friends.

  I didn’t exactly like hearing that, but in the end I knew it was for the best. We were friends, but we were also more, and that more was about to get complicated by our lives and distance and the worlds we lived in. It wasn’t worth getting upset about something that couldn’t be black and white when it just wasn’t.

  “Are you excited to see your family?” Andi asked me, and it made me sad that she was making small talk. We hadn’t needed to do that since the first night we met.

  But I wasn’t going to be the jackass who pointed that out. “Sure. I always love seeing my brothers and sister, and it’ll be cool to meet Parker. He’s really cute from what I’ve seen.”

  “Well, if he shares genes with you and Dillon, I’m sure he’s adorable.”

  “I’m not sure if I should take offense that you’re insinuating that my best friend is good looking.”

  She shook her head at me. “I’m not interested in him and you know it.”

  Our conversation continued in much of the same way as we flew south, the minutes ticking by faster than I wanted them to, and before I knew it we were landing. The knot that had been subtly there in my stomach all day grew to the size of a grapefruit as Andi gathered her things.

  I left my stuff where it was and followed her off the plane, grabbing her hand at the last second, just as she was thanking the pilot. She looked back at me expectantly, so I did the only thing I could think of and tugged her toward me, crushing my lips against hers. It was the last time I’d be able to kiss her for a while, and I didn’t want to miss my window. I sure as hell wasn’t going to kiss her in front of her dad.

  She looked at me with shining brown eyes when she pulled back from the kiss, and a part of me was relieved to see sadness in them. I knew it matched the expression I was wearing.

  “Thank you for this week,” I told her. “It was perfect.”

  She pressed her lips to mine, and then she dropped her bag and threw her arms around my neck. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she felt the same way.

  “This isn’t goodbye,” she whispered. “Call me later tonight so I know you got home okay.”

  “I will,” I promised, knowing I’d never be able to get to sleep without talking to her.

  When she pulled away, I felt hollow, never knowing anyone before who could spark that sort of emotion in me. The only other person who came close was Dillon, but we were like brothers. He was a part of me, and I was a part of him, and we’d been that way since we were kids. It was different. Andi was the only girl to ever have this effect on me.

  She smiled as she picked up her bag once again. Then she took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “I’m not. I have to meet your dad,” I teased her as we walked off the plane.

  She laughed. “He’s not scary, and as far as he knows, we’re just friends. He only brings the shotgun out for potential boyfriends.”

  “Good to know.”

  Her dad ended up being a nice guy, and he thanked me for delivering his daughter safely. I had a feeling Andi was going to spend the car ride explaining how she’d ended up being friends with a guy like me who had access to a private plane, but I figured she’d handle it like a pro. With a heavy heart, I hugged her once more and said goodbye.

  The plane ride to Detroit was mildly dismal. Chris must have known this since he stayed relatively quiet, reading a book on his iPad while I tried to watch a movie. We had a car waiting for us, and we headed to my dad’s house where I dropped my stuff in my old bedroom, shared a meal with my old man and felt like I was sixteen again.

  After dinner, I met up with Dillon at a local dive bar where even if we were recognized no one would give a shit. It was a place we frequented when we wanted to get out but lay low. The atmosphere was less than appealing, but they had pool tables and they served beer, so that didn’t suck.

  “So what in the hell did you do this past week?” Dillon asked, no doubt having seen the pictures of Andi and me online. He was leaning on his pool stick, appraising me.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I said coyly as I lined up the balls for the initial break.

  Chris and Tommy, Dillon’s security guy, sat at a nearby table even though we’d invited them to play. They’d declined and had ordered waters. I wasn’t sure I could do their job. I wasn’t vigilant enough, and I got distracted too often by shiny objects that I’d probably fail miserably at keeping my charge safe. But they didn’t seem to mind, and I knew if anyone tried anything with us, they’d be right there.

  “Come on, dude. You totally hooked up with the chick from the show. I never thought you’d be one to go all out for a fan, but whatever.”

  I smirked as I shook my head and lifted the triangle from the pool table. “She’s not a fan, man. She actually kind of hates our music – well most of it.”

  “Really? That’s kind of weird.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s not?”

  I looked up at Dillon as he made his way to the end of the pool table and lined up his cue to break. “I don’t need an ego boost. I get that nightly from our fans. Andi’s different. She’s cool.”

  “Andi, huh?”

  He obviously didn’t remember that I’d introduced them at the party. I’d had a feeling he’d been more than a little wasted that night.

  “Yeah,” I said, as I tried to hide the smile that wanted to creep up. “Andi.”

  “She’s hot. I’ll give you that.”

  “She is, but man it’s not just that. She’s cool as shit.”

  “Nice,” Dillon said as he appraised his shot, called out that he was stripes as one striped ball fell into a corner pocket, and took a sip of his beer. Then he moved around the table and lined up his next shot. “I saw that you took her out to dinner and to a show. That was smooth. You don’t normally do things like that.”

  “That was just a friend thing. And she’s the one who invited me to go to the show. I just took her invite up a notch.”

  “Which probably got you laid. Good work.

  “Dude, don’t go there. Not with her. It’s not like that.”

  Dillon’s shot missed and the ball banked off the side of the table and rammed into a cluster of other balls, knocking them askew.

  “Then what’s it like? Tell me you didn’t just spend a week with a girl and not screw her.”

  “Don’t say screw. It makes it sound cheap.”

  “So you did sleep with her,” Dillon deduced.

  “Yeah, I did,” I finally admitted, usually not one to give a shit about my friends knowing who I’d been with. With Andi it was different, though. Everything was different with her.

  “You like her,” Dillon said, finally getting it.

  “Yeah, I do, but shit man, I kind of
think she’s too good for me.”

  Dillon looked at me like I was insane. “Are you fucking kidding me? When have you ever thought a girl was too good for you?”

  I shrugged. “Never, but I’ve also never consciously given a shit about stuff beyond what we do now.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Camden?” Dillon asked. He only ever used my full name when he was irritated with me.

  “I mean, normally when I’m with a girl, I don’t think about anything but who I am now – Camden Baylor from Westside – because that’s all she’ll ever get to see. I’ve never had to worry about the façade wearing off and a girl realizing I’m not the guy she thinks I am.”

  “And you’re worried about that with Andi?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. But look around. This is the shit that’s underneath. It’s who Camden Baylor from Westside really is.”

  Dillon’s eyes darted around the dingy bar and came back to focus on me. “No, it’s not,” he said, looking at me like I was certifiable. “Cam, this isn’t you. It isn’t us. Not anymore.”

  Yeah, I didn’t buy that.

  “Come on, man, you can shine us up, but we’re still two kids who grew up running the streets of a neighborhood that most people wouldn’t venture into after dark.”

  “Yeah, but we got out. We had a plan and it worked. We’re not those kids anymore. We’re better than that.”

  “Are we?”

  “Yes. Cam, we play shows to sold out arenas. We wear t-shirts that cost two-hundred dollars. We have a goddammed house on the fucking beach. And when I eventually propose to Mere, I’m putting a big ass rock on her finger so there is no question in her mind that we’ll ever have to live like my parents did. Our kids won’t grow up like you and I did. I promise you we aren’t those people anymore, and we never will be again.”

  I sighed as I wondered if he was right. Dillon and I’d had one goal in mind when we made it big, and that was to put as much distance between our old neighborhood and our new lives as we could, but it was hard to do that when our families were still very much stuck there. Dillon had lived in fear that his parents’ home was going to be invaded at any moment, because similar break-ins had been happening on his street for the past few months before we’d auditioned for Westside. So as soon as he got his first big paycheck, he bought them a house in a suburb we could have only dreamed of living in growing up.

  I’d tried to do the same for my family, but my father refused to move, saying he’d use his shotgun on anyone who tried to mess with him. My mother had already traded up when she married her second husband, but I set up college funds for my younger brother and sister, so my mom and Ted wouldn’t have to worry about that. And with my help, Preston was able to make a life for himself away from the bad shit we’d grown up around, even if his gym was still in a crap part of town. He and Callie moved to a nicer area, and it made me feel better knowing that my nephew was at least safe at home.

  “I still feel like that guy when I come back here,” I told Dillon. “I worked so hard to not let the shit stick when we were growing up, but I think it stuck without me noticing.”

  “Bullshit,” Dillon refuted. “You were a golden boy in the midst of all this shit. You had it all figured out. I was just lucky to catch a ride in your wake.”

  “I never would have left you behind,” I promised him.

  “I know, and I’m grateful for that. I’m also grateful for the life I have, and I don’t want to look back. We come here because we have to, but I hate it. I fucking hate this place. There are too many bad memories here. But it doesn’t have to define us. And if this Andi chick is as cool as you say she is, she won’t care about how you grew up. She’ll care about who you are today.”

  “I guess.”

  “Trust me, man. This isn’t you anymore, and quite frankly, it never was. You need to believe that.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

  It bugged the shit out of me that my insecurities were getting the best of me. I hadn’t let my past haunt me in a long time. I’d gotten over it and thought I’d moved on, but after a week with a girl who’d essentially knocked me off my feet, my insecurities were back.

  “I suppose it doesn’t really matter,” I continued. “I’ll probably see her again when we’re back in the city, but it’s not like this thing with her can go anywhere – at least not anywhere real.”

  Dillon raised an eyebrow at me. “Were you actually thinking about it going somewhere?”

  He knew I didn’t have girlfriends, so hearing that I was even thinking along those lines was surprising to him. Hell, it was surprising to me.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Dillon walked over to me and put his hand on my forehead. I brushed it away when I realized he was being a tool. “Quit it. I’m not sick.”

  “Are you sure, because not even a week ago, we were having a conversation about whether me being with Meredith was worth it or not, and now you’re telling me that you’re considering putting yourself in the same situation? I’m kind of in shock right now, and I’d like to meet the girl who viced your balls when I wasn’t looking.”

  “Fuck you,” I told him as I turned back to the pool table and sunk two solid balls back-to-back.

  “Cam, seriously. You didn’t know this girl a week ago, and you’re already thinking about getting into a relationship with her?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m not dumb enough to think that would ever work out. We travel two-thirds of the year, and with our contact for five albums and five tours in five years, our schedule isn’t going to ease up anytime soon. I’m not delusional, but I also can’t just walk away. Nothing feels the same since I met her. That might change in a week or two weeks, but right now, after literally waking up next to her this morning, I’m feeling a little screwed up about everything.”

  “It’ll pass,” Dillon promised.

  “I’m seeing her when we go to New York in three weeks. I’m flying in the night before.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah, I think it will be,” I said, feeling like I was going through withdrawals already. “I hope. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m really her type.”

  “Oh, so she doesn’t like cool, successful, rich, good-looking guys that a million other girls would kill to date? I don’t buy that.”

  “It’s not that. She dates older guys,” I told him.

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I saw her ex-boyfriend. He’s forty, man, and she said she normally dates older guys.”

  “So?”

  “So, I’m four years younger than her.”

  “And she obviously saw something that she liked in you or she wouldn’t have spent a week with you. Dude, why are you so insecure all of a sudden? Is this girl really all that?”

  Yes. Dammit, I hadn't been this inside my head earlier in the day, but a few hours away from Andi, and I was completely losing my cool. As much as I loved hanging out with Dillon, I was honestly looking forward to going home later and calling her. And if that feeling continued, I didn’t think what I was feeling for her would pass like Dillon thought it would. If it was real, it wasn’t going to just go away overnight.

  A part of me hoped it would, though, because it would sure as hell make my life easier if I could just forget about her, but another part of me never wanted to forget her. I didn’t want to lose the past week, because it ranked up there as one of the best of my life. And it was all because of Andi.

  “Fuck, man, I don’t know,” I groaned.

  “You’re being an idiot,” Dillon said, shaking his head.

  “I know.”

  He was right. I was being stupid. I just wished Andi didn’t make me feel like this. I hated second-guessing who I was. It wasn’t me. I’d won her over with my confidence and my ability to let things roll off my back. I needed to remember that.

  Chapter Eleven

  Andi

  “Are you dating him?” Tory asked me
from the couch where she sat with Hannah.

  I was in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on my make-up because Cam was going to be downstairs any minute to pick me up. It had been three weeks since I’d seen him, but we’d talked almost every night. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been this excited about seeing someone.

  But because of the ambiguity surrounding what was going on with us and the fact that he was ridiculously famous, I’d been vague with Tory and Hannah about our status and what had happened the last time he was in town. Gabe knew the whole story, since I’d been fresh off of the best few days I’d had in a long time when I’d seen him over Thanksgiving. But by the time I’d gotten back to New York, and after having done some more Internet searching into Cam’s celebrity status, I’d decided not to be as open with my other friends.

  We usually talked about everything, but a part of me felt like keeping this a secret – at least until I knew there was something to tell. And now that Cam was back in New York, and he was on his way to my apartment, I figured I was safe sharing. But I was going to make them work for the information.

  “We’re friends,” I told Tory, smiling to myself, because Cam and I definitely weren’t just friends.

  “The pictures on the Internet showed you guys holding hands,” Hannah interjected, repeating the same thing she’d said after first seeing the pictures of Cam and me.

  “They did, and I told you that was because we were running from the paparazzi. He took my hand so we wouldn’t get separated.”

  It was the public story that was out there, the one Westside’s publicist had told the media and then reiterated to me so I could corroborate the same story if asked. The first few days after I got back from Atlanta, I encountered a few photographers outside my apartment. They were polite enough, asking me a few questions about my relationship with Cam. I said as little as possible and played it off that we were just friends. They’d gotten a few pictures of me, and after a few days, they disappeared.

  I felt good about that, but Cam had explained that they were leaving me alone because he wasn’t around. He’d gone to Detroit and then home to L.A, and the press knew that. He said they would back off, but they’d be waiting to see when and if we were spotted together again. It made me slightly anxious that they were just lying in wait to capture us at a vulnerable moment, but I guess that’s what they did.